


Bonding Over Shared Hate.

by BornToBeBeheaded



Category: Stage Fright (2014)
Genre: Bad Jokes, Bonding, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Don't get caught, F/M, Friendship, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Chris Fleming references, Standing Sex, risky sex, roasting theater kids, slight spoilers for the movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:54:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25214251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BornToBeBeheaded/pseuds/BornToBeBeheaded
Summary: You hate theater, hate musicals, hate center stage. Camillia got the lead in the play and Buddy needs help in the kitchen, you are enlisted to help him out. The two of you bond and share a friendship over your shared hate for all things theater, the friendship ends up becoming more than just that.
Relationships: Buddy Swanson X Reader, Buddy Swanson X You, Buddy Swanson/Reader, Buddy Swanson/You, Metal Killer X Reader, Metal Killer X You, Metal Killer/Reader, Metal Killer/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Bonding Over Shared Hate.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tinalbion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinalbion/gifts).



> This is for TINA! She requested this ask on my tumblr and I HAD to do it! I LOVE this boy toooo much! I HAD to do it! I had a good ass time doing this one, I don't care that like no one knows this boy because Tina and I love him. Either way I hope you enjoy this! As per usual, feedback, ideas, suggestions, requests, are all encouraged, leave a comment here or shoot an ask to my tumblr, bisexual-horror-fan, I would LOVE to fill out some requests for people! As always thanks for reading and ENJOY!

It was bullshit.

That is what Buddy thought when his sister, Camilla, got the lead in this summer's production of The Haunting Of The Opera. She came up all excited and before she could even get a word out he said without even looking at her,

“Congratulations.”

Then when he asked who was going to cover her shifts and she responded,

"You are."

Utter bullshit. 

He knew his sister liked theater crap, liked it way, way more than he did, she always had, but still actually trying out for the show? 

Of course she got the lead. 

“The drama of it all” 

-as he heard one kid said excitedly. 

Ha they were right about that. 

It was too perfect. 

The daughter of the original lead actress who was murdered on opening night being the new lead for the show’s revival? Too good to pass up. He knew she wanted to do it but it pissed him off, he felt they were just using her for who she was, not what she could actually do and there was the other frustrating thing as well, she was going to get in the way of his plans.

He was going to try and keep her out of it, as much as he hated theater kids and all their shit and how theater had literally ruined his life and tore his family apart he wasn’t about to break it up further by taking down Camillia if he could help it. 

The current annoyance was still taking up most of his attention. Camillla could be so selfish sometimes, just expecting him to take all of the cooking shifts this summer? 

Buddy loved to cook, he legitimately did, wanted to open a restaurant, get away from Center Stage and away from Roger and most importantly just away from theater all together. 

But having to do all the work on his own? It fucking sucked.

He was putting on his apron in the kitchen, Camilla already run off, she wanted-

“To be early for her first read through!”

-she called as she bolted from the kitchen. 

That first night he had to make dinner all on his own sucked, he was tired by the end of it. Theater kids were too fucking demanding, he had good recipes, good plans and he felt like they didn’t fucking appreciate him and all his hard work. It was early in the camp season this year but he heard it too many times already. If he had to listen to one more whiny, nasally ensemble member say-

“Does this have dairy? I CANNOT have dairy, I have a singing part.”

-he would fucking strangle them right there in the serving line. 

He left late after all the dishes and clean up were done. He walked back to his cabin, looking up at the night sky thinking about how much extra this summer was going to suck.  
Spending even more time locked in the kitchen on his own, he thought about his future and how this was hopefully going to be his last fucking summer here and he could move on soon to better things. 

He was very surprised when the next day he wasn’t alone in the kitchen. Roger was there, with you, 

“Ah Buddy, there you are.”

“Roger.”

Buddy acknowledged as he tied up his apron as he looked to him,

“I know you’re mad about Camillia being in the play, she is going to be far too busy to help you out while she is focusing on the show so I got you some extra help.”

He introduced you and you gave a small wave before saying,

“Hello, good to meet you.”

Oh you were cute.

Maybe this summer wouldn’t be all bad.

Roger left you to it, Buddy had gotten you an apron and struck up conversation,

“So do you have any kitchen experience?”

“Not much unfortunately but I’ll work hard, promise.”

Good enough. Well more than good enough, he showed you around and went over the menu for that night and you did great, followed instruction well and conversation seemed to flow fine. The turning point was when you were bringing in trays to get washed, dropping them onto the counter next to the sinks with a loud sigh,

"God theater kids are disgusting! Bunch of animals I swear."

Mild interest in you turned to you having Buddy's full attention.

"Tell me about it. Been doing this for years, wait till you see the mess after opening night. The dinner before the show is bad enough but after their little 'cast party'? Now that is disgusting."

"They get really wild here, huh?"

You said it with a laugh and he shook his head,

"Yeah really wild."

The clean up flew by with you and him laughing and talking about how annoying they were. That is how your friendship started, cooking and cleaning and roasting theater kids and how dumb musicals were. You would share looks with him on the serving line over how ridiculous they were. Both then vocalizing your grievances when you were safely back in the kitchen. You were doing an over exaggerated impression of two particularly insufferable kids at lunch that day:

"Hey Gabrielle nice step ball change." 

You said in a high nasally voice before taking a step to the side with a flourish before doing the other side of the interaction in a deeper voice,

"You too Gabrielle"

He laughed and shook his head, brown curls bouncing as he did,

"Can't stand those two! They need to stop practicing dance steps in line, get your food and get out."

You brought over another stack of trays as you said,

"Please. Buddy, trying to get a Gabrielle in the chorus line to stop dancing is like trying to get a fish to stop swimming."

"Fuck isn't that the truth."

The next day after another impromptu musical number mid-meal he was ranting to you as he got the mop bucket ready,

"Did she have to jump on the table like that? Almost broke the damn thing! Kicking those food trays everywhere."

"Seriously it looks like a crime scene out there."

You saying it made him think that he could make it look like a REAL crime scene out there, he pushed the thought aside and he continued on,

"She isn't even good! They never should have let her have such a big part in Brigadoon last year, now she thinks she is hot shit."

"Ugh was that last years show? Fucking Brigadoon? I hated doing that show."

That gave him pause.

"Wait, when YOU did Brigadoon? What do you mean?"

"Yeah, I did it like three years back, such a dumb show."

"You're a theater kid?"

"Reluctantly so. Why do you think I'm here? My parents sent me here as a camper."

Course Roger elected a camper instead of actually hiring someone outside of this.

"But you RIP apart this place with me, all the stupid people, costumes all this theater shit, why?"

You laughed, hard, it took a moment to catch your breath before responding, 

"Buddy no one hates theater kids more than other theater kids."

That made almost too much sense. Of course someone who had to be around them 24/7, in shows with them, actually doing all the stupid acting and singing and quick changes would hate them the most. 

"So if you hate this why are you here?"

"My parents don't care that I don't like it. Theater is in my family. They decided I'm simply 'too talented' to not pursue a career in theater." 

"Bullshit again!"

The thought rang loud through his head and you continued speaking,

"I totally botched my audition on purpose so I wouldn't get any role. Didn't sign up for any backstage work, nothing. Soon as I heard that help was needed in the kitchen I jumped at the chance, it is a perfect excuse to not have to be involved in all their shit this year. Plus…"

You reached out and took his hand before finishing your thought, 

"I got to meet you."

You squeezed his hand once before letting go, he wished you wouldn't have, wished you would have hung on for just a little longer. 

So change of plans. 

You were so nice, so cool, and didn't want to be a part of this theater lifestyle, just like him. You were falling in love with cooking, he could tell, he thought if his sister wanted to dive head first into theater, if she didn't want to be apart of his dreams, maybe you would.

Another night, another big mess, tech rehearsal ran late so everyone was late for dinner which meant the food wasn't as hot, everyone complained about that, even though it was their fault they were late in the first place. And since they were all so late that meant you weren't able to clean up until much later than normal. Buddy had pulled out a truly awful bottle of cooking wine for you two to share. Both taking a break after clearing the tables and cleaning the dining room before starting in on the dishes.

"Fucking hate tech week.”

You sighed and he spoke up,

“So what stupid, annoying tongue twister did your family like?"

He asked before taking another drink from the bottle, he held it out and you laughed as you took it saying,

"Fuck that shit is tattooed on my brain."

You took a swig before sitting up straighter, you were sitting on the prep table, you brushed some hair out of your face and projected,

"What a to-do to die today, at a minute or two to two; a distinctly hard thing to say, but harder still to do."

You laughed again with him and you made an over exaggerated gagging sound before exclaiming,

"GOD! Fuckin' hate that shit!"

"I can tell! See you say your a good actor, but I dunno."

"What do you mean?"

You asked and he followed up,

"You smiled when you did it but it didn't reach your eyes."

"I didn't give dead eyes!"

He was mid sip when you said that, he laughed again and almost choked, he pulled the bottle back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before repeating what you said mocking you,

"I didn't give dead eyes!"

You pushed him on the shoulder playfully as he said,

"Awe what? I thought you didn't care about being an actor?"

He teased and you said a little too loudly,

"I don't care!" 

You said as you took the bottle back and he leaned on one hand on the table, closer to you as he says your name before following up,

"Doth protest too much."

The way he was looking at you with that smirk, you had gotten so much closer with him, he was just so sweet and cute, and talented in a way you weren't used to. Not talented in singing or dancing but in a more real way, everyone's needs to eat after all and you really liked how passionate he could be about food. You loved the banter and jokes between you two but right now you just wanted him to-

"Shut up."

You grabbed the collar or his shirt and pulled him in, kissing him for the first time. 

He did shut up that night.

After that night you didn't just cook and clean and laugh and joke anymore.

I mean you still did all those things of course but then you also spent a lot of time much closer together. You both had gotten so good at working together, working so quickly and well, there was ample time between meals, between prepping and cooking to get closer together still. 

You two weren't stupid though. You still know anyone could come into the kitchen at anytime. You didn't want to get caught so you both became very familiar with the walk in fridge. 

Fuck he had such a good mouth, it had become commonplace between you and him, it was always so good, so fucking hot. 

You pulled away with a shiver, rubbing your hands together as you whispered, 

"It's always so fucking cold in here."

He had your back pressed to the shelves, soon as you broke the kiss he had his mouth on your neck, hands on your hips.

"Want me to warm you up?" 

With what his mouth was doing right now you were already well on your way.

"How would you do that?" 

He took your hands and brought them up, to the wire rack of the shelf above your head, he was looking into your eyes as he said firmly,

"Grip."

You had to listen.

Fingers curled around ice cold metal and he kissed you again, hard, heated before sliding down your body, hands dragging over your sides, eventually coming to rest under your thighs. He put your legs over his shoulders, you thanked God you wore a skirt today, underwear pushed out if the way and his mouth found you and oh fuck it was so warm. 

He took his time, hands cradling your hips as he ate you out, so slowly. You throbbed and dripped and when you looked down you could see his face through the mess of brown curls to see his eyes closed, focusing on you, how you tasted, how your hips bucked when he sucked on your clit, how you tasted. Fuck he moaned when his tongue dragged up your whole slit, moaned like it was the best thing he ever tasted, the best meal possible. 

You groaned his name, head tipping back, as good as it was you couldn't take much more. Soon you needed more than his mouth, 

"Bud-dyyy, fuck, please?"

He gave another hard lick, tongue swirling over your clit, another suck before pulling back, kisses placed over your inner thighs, his breath was so hot in comparison to the cold air in the walk in fridge, 

"C'mon, I need you-"

"No patience. Lucky you're so cute."

He slid your legs off his shoulders, hands under your thighs as he stood up, his grip was so strong as he helped hold you up. He felt so fucking hard, you wanted him so badly, this had to be quick, it'd be lunch time soon. 

Quick or not it was so good. It felt so dirty too, doing this in the walk-in, in the middle of the day when you should have both been working. It was urgent, kisses passed back and fourth, hushed whispers of each others names, quiet moans, eventually the metal wire of the shelving was too cold. You let go of it, one hand buried in his curls, the other gripping his shirt over one shoulder, foreheads pressed together, your eyes closed, moaning his name. 

"This is so bad. You're so bad."

He breathed to you and you laughed, it broke off at the end into a moan with a particularly hard thrust from him before you said,

"Wha-what can I sayyy? Fuck, I was raised in theater-"

Another moan shared between the two of you before he laughed and whispered,

"True. Can't hold it against you. Raised to be a little slut."

His head dipped down to bite the side of your neck making you cry out for him, it made you clench down too, he cursed and another few hard thrusts he filled you, legs wrapped tight around him, pulling him as close as possible as his orgasm triggered your own. One of his hands let go of your legs, gripping the shelf you had been hanging onto previously to stay upright, his knees going a little weak at how fucking good it felt to spill inside of you. 

Kisses passed back and forth on your shared come down, his forehead pressed to yours again,

“You warm now?”

“Very.”

You whispered to him. 

Serving lunch that day was very interesting. It was a bit hard to stay focused with his cum slipping out of you into your panties, the little smirk and looks he would give you didn’t help either. 

“You alright?”

He whispered at one point, not looking at you as he switched out an empty tray for a full one, course you weren’t, he knew why you weren’t too, you refused to look at him, coy smile on your face as you said,

“Just fine. You make such a mess though Buddy, might need your help cleaning it up after lunch.”

“True. I am very messy.”

His hand on your hip under the counter, out of view of everyone else as he said,

“Suppose I can take responsibility for that.”

It was almost opening night. Everything was going to change after that. He hoped everything would work out. He knew you pretty well by now, he figured if you could make it through his plans for opening night then he knew you two could get through anything.


End file.
